After heavy focus on out Shareholder Series, we take a swerve back to Customer Corner and focus on the festering mess that is Doosan Group, South Korea’s hulking conglomerate that’s been peddling everything from bulldozers to baseball teams while leaving a trail of scandals that’d make a mob boss blush. A boardroom fairy-tale this is not – it’s the unvarnished truth about a family-run empire that’s rotten from the top down, where greed trumps ethics and the little guy gets screwed every time. And yeah, I’m pissed off about it, because behind the shiny logos and stock tickers are real people getting fucked over.

Doosan started as a humble shop in 1896, slinging rice wine and textiles, but it ballooned into a chaebol – that’s Korean for a massive family-controlled business group that dominates the economy, like Samsung or Hyundai, but with more skeletons in the closet. Today, they’re into heavy machinery, energy plants, construction gear, and even own the Doosan Bears baseball team. Sounds impressive? Sure, until you peel back the layers and find the maggots. We’re talking embezzlement, dodgy mergers, and a culture of corruption that’s as Korean as kimchi but twice as sour.

First off, a quick aside on their pals in the engine world: Doosan is indeed a customer of our friends at Cummins, They’ve been cosy since at least 2012, with Doosan slapping Cummins engines into their machines to meet emissions rules. But here’s the kicker – this makes Doosan yet another player in the Cummins ecosystem with some seriously alternative ideas on ethical behaviour. If Cummins is the heart of global machinery, Doosan is the clogged artery, pumping sludge instead of blood.

The Family Feud That Exposed the Rot

Picture this: It’s 2005, and the Park brothers – heirs to the Doosan throne – are at each other’s throats like feral dogs over a bone. Park Yong-sung, the chairman, and his siblings get indicted for embezzling a staggering 32.6 billion won, that’s about £25 million in today’s money, straight from company coffers. We’re not talking pocket change; this was a full-on family heist, complete with slush funds and secret accounts. Yong-sung’s brother accuses him of cooking up 17 billion won in illicit cash, all while they brawl for control of the empire.

The probe didn’t stop there. Yong-sung and his in-laws get hauled in for making Doosan Industrial Development foot the bill on their personal loans – 13.8 billion won in interest, no less. It’s the kind of insider bullshit that screams “fuck you” to shareholders and employees alike. Yong-sung, who moonlighted as an International Olympic Committee member, gets suspended over the conviction but slithers back in 2007 amid outrage. This wasn’t just a spat; it was a window into how chaebol families treat companies like their personal piggy banks, draining them dry while the rest of us pay the price.

And the fallout? Fines, resignations, but the Parks kept their grip. It’s outrageous – these bastards embezzle millions, and the system slaps their wrists. If this happened in a street market, it’d be fists flying; in corporate Korea, it’s just another Tuesday.

Financial Shenanigans and the Art of Hiding Losses

Fast forward to the 2010s and 2020s, and Doosan’s still at it, playing fast and loose with the books like a crooked bookie rigging a horse race. In 2012, there’s uproar over how they classify perpetual bonds – fancy financial instruments that look like equity but smell like debt. Regulators step in, ruling them as liabilities, but it’s a symptom of deeper rot: a company desperate to pretty up its balance sheet.

By 2019, calls for a forensic audit hit Doosan Heavy Industries amid a wave of Korean accounting scandals. Investors are penalised, transparency’s a joke, and the whole thing stinks of cover-ups. Then, in 2024, the hammer drops – Doosan Enerbility gets fined up to £12 million by South Korean watchdogs for improper bookkeeping from 2017 to 2020. What’d they do? Concealed massive losses from a botched Indian power plant project. We’re talking billions hidden away, all to keep the stock price afloat and the execs in bonuses.

This isn’t abstract finance mumbo-jumbo; it’s real harm. When companies like Doosan fudge the numbers, pensions tank, jobs vanish, and suppliers get stiffed. It’s fucking infuriating – these suits in Seoul towers playing god with other people’s money, while the everyday worker scrambles to make rent.

The Nuclear Mess and Power Plays

Doosan’s fingers are deep in South Korea’s nuclear pie, and it’s a recipe for disaster. Back in 2012-2014, the country’s nuclear industry explodes in scandal with counterfeit parts – over 2,000 falsified test reports leading to reactor shutdowns. Doosan Heavy isn’t directly indicted, but they’re neck-deep in the projects, supplying components and facing scrutiny that could’ve toppled lesser firms.

Then there’s the 2017 bribery blow-up involving Korea Hydro & Nuclear Power, where officials take kickbacks, and Doosan’s name pops up in the mix. It’s the underbelly of energy: a sector where safety should be sacred, but corruption turns it toxic. Doosan, with its heavy industry arm, profits from this chaos, building plants while the risks pile up. One wrong move, and it’s Chernobyl-lite – all because greed overrides caution.

More recently, in 2025, Doosan cancels hydrogen fuel cell deals worth £450 million. No outright scandal, but it reeks of overpromising and underdelivering in the green energy hype. In a world screaming for clean power, Doosan’s track record makes you wonder: Are they innovators or just opportunists?

The Merger Mayhem: Screwing Shareholders for Fun and Profit

Ah, the crown jewel of recent fuckery – the 2024 push to delist Doosan Bobcat and merge it with Doosan Robotics. Bobcat’s the cash cow, making diggers and loaders that rake in billions, while Robotics is the flashy but loss-making sibling betting on AI arms. The plan? Spin off Bobcat from parent Doosan Enerbility, merge it into Robotics at a laughable 1:0.63 ratio, and force shareholders to swallow it.

Investors lose their shit – and rightly so. The ratio undervalues Bobcat by miles, handing control to the Parks while minorities get diluted. It’s classic chaebol tactics: restructure to tighten family grip, damn the consequences. Regulators order fixes to the prospectus, governance watchdogs howl, and the whole thing gets scrapped amid backlash. But not before stocks tank and trust evaporates.

Even after ditching the plan, questions linger. Why the rush? To prop up Robotics at Bobcat’s expense? It’s predatory, exploiting loopholes in Korea’s system where minority voices get drowned out. And let’s not forget the 2024 embezzlement at Bobcat’s Korean arm – four execs booted after an audit uncovers theft. Just another day in paradise.

Subsidiary Sideshows and the Baseball Blunders

Doosan’s tentacles reach everywhere, and the scandals follow. In 2016, subsidiary Doosan Corporation Mottrol gets slammed for demeaning employees – think abusive management that prompts government crackdowns. Then there’s the Doosan Bears, their pro baseball team, mired in 2024 drug and proxy prescription scandals. Player Oh Jae-won and eight others implicated in dope, coach apologising for fake scripts – it’s a sideshow that tarnishes the brand.

These aren’t isolated; they’re systemic. From the 2007 antitrust fine for fraudulently funding affiliates (£3.5 million) to the 2008 subprime hit from buying Bobcat, Doosan’s history is a litany of missteps. In 2020, Doosan Heavy nearly collapses under debt, begging for bailouts while the group teeters as Korea’s 15th-biggest conglomerate.

And The Conclusion…Why This Shit Matters

In the end, Doosan’s not unique – it’s the poster child for chaebol ills: family dynasties that bend rules, stifle competition, and prioritise blood over business sense. South Korea’s economy thrives on them, but at what cost? Stagnant wages, inequality, and a culture where corruption’s just “how it’s done.” It’s enraging – these empires built on public backs, yet they act like untouchable kings.

If you’re an everyday reader, think of Doosan like that dodgy mechanic who overcharges for a fix while pocketing parts. Supply chains? Simple: Doosan makes the big machines that build your roads and power your homes, but their ethics are as reliable as a leaky faucet. We deserve better – transparency, accountability, and a boot up the arse for the Parks of the world.

This expose isn’t about hate; it’s about truth. Doosan’s got talent and tech, but until they clean house, they’re just another gritty tale of corporate avarice. Fuck that – demand more.

Lee Thompson – Founder, The Cummins Accountability Project

Customer Corner : Doosan Group – South Korea’s Shameful Secret